Duncanless Origin Aeducan
by danijou
Summary: If Duncan weren't there to save you from your fate, would you be able to survive the aftermath of the game Origins? Dwarf Noble version.


Aeducan

9:30; Pluitanis 25

Two days ago I had been celebrating promotion, bedding two fine noble-hunters in a – if I do say so myself – marvelous display of masculinity. Ha, didn't even tire out on those minxes after fighting in the day's Proving. I had taken the ancestors' favor over men (and a couple of misled women that hopefully learned their place) that had come to fight in my own sodding name. Did I mention I bedded them both, separately, same night? Ha! Virile dwarf like this, you best believe I'm the _real_ man of this bleeding House. That second hunter thought I was going to need a rest after that first one, but - ha! I showed her, and her rump. But right - the Proving. For the honor of Kamol of House Aeducan. Ha, for my own honor, and _glory! _

But damn it, I couldn't leave well enough alone. I heard about the ridiculous plotting of my elder brother! Just on word from Bhelen, the council seemed it would support my ascent to the throne over Trian. So what does the twit think is the best course of action? To try and kill me! Bhelen said I had the council and the Ancestor's favor. Of course I do! I don't go about snarling at every dwarf that passes without any damn reason. Well, anyways, I didn't want the damn throne – I wanted what I already bleeding had. Women, money, things to kill. For all I cared, Bhelen could have had the damn throne. But for plotting to kill _me_, Trian had to die. And so he did. I killed that damn, glorified duster. Yeah, I admit it. He had it coming to him anyways.

And what happened? Kinslayer, that's what had _sodding_ happened. Nothing but the bleeding Deep Roads, a sword that a _duster_ would be insulted to carry, and a shield that may have been a damn serving platter with a handle affixed. I didn't even have shoes!

To say I had fallen far would not only be trite, but literal.

I was gonna escape the Roads when I saw a bit of sunlight, but I couldn't make my way out. No, instead, as I climbed up on a pile of rocks reaching for the damn exit, one of the slabs shifted. I would have sodding had it. I'll find another air-hole here somewhere. The surface has to be better than being lower than the lowest of the dust. So long as I don't melt under that, whatcha-call-it, "rain," it can't be that bad. Not like I have anything to need to come home to. And what's more, I'll take _living_ over some nug-dropping excuse for an "honorable death."

The fall didn't kill me, anyways. Gravity can't hurt this dwarf, no ser. An underground river _graciously_ broke my fall, and carried me flailing and spitting and yelling through rapids 'til I was tossed out on the "shore" of some Ancestor-forsaken thaig. I know it was an abandoned thaig because I was lucky enough to have landed close enough to a fire to have light. Oh, and nearly get my arse handed to me by a few darkspawn. I was half drowned and I still killed them – what do those men on the front lines complain about? So, I got a little bloodied up. They're dead, I'm not, and now I've got their fire. Just gotta keep something burning and I'll have flame long as I need it. Not that there's anything to cook on the fire. Mushrooms all taste the same to me any damn way – figure they'll probably taste the same once they've gone through you, too.

9:30; Pluitanis 28

Caught a deepstalker today. Figure that'll feed me safe for a week, but I guess having a fire down here makes me a sitting duck or something. Darkspawn keep showing up. Not that I mind, I've got me a set of armor now off them. Isn't perfect, but it's got bleeding _boots_, and not having your feet all caked with dirt and pebbles is more a blessing than you think. And a good mace, can't forget. I figure, 'so what if they seem to know where I am, it's not like I can't kill them.'

9:30; Nubulis 3

Well, it finally happened. I think maybe some of that darkspawn blood splattered on my deepstalker meat, and I didn't notice it. But I started getting one of those damn rashes on my shoulder. So I cut that part of skin off. Hurt like you wouldn't believe, but it was just my left arm. Shield arm, don't need to move that much anyways. I just have to be more careful and that'll be the worst of it, I'm sure. Can't seem to get too far from my 'camp,' try as I like. Can't swim up the rapids, can't pass a cave-in. One way goes pretty far, but then there's a drop. By the ancestors, wish I had a damn map.

9:30; Nubulis 7

Today, I found a spider. Near big as me. Ate the legs over the fire – you know it wasn't half bad. Mighty proud of the kill, too. Thing didn't go down without a fight. Bet those minxes woulda swooned if they saw _that_ victory. If I had those women here right now, I'd ride them sore 'til morning. I figure this is all Bhelen's fault. Don't really care if it is or isn't, but he's the only one left in the palace now, isn't he? It's got to be him, then, since I'm sitting here eating a purple spider and Trian's kissing a stone somewhere. Well, two some-wheres, since his head's pretty clean off.

9:30; Nubulis ?

I swear it gets easier and easier to see in the dark down here. Those palace morons, wasting good … whatever lights those torches, on those fiery lighty things. I'm hungry, could eat my own beard.

9:30; Nubulis

Know what those men say about darkspawn flesh? It's not true. It doesn't taste half bad. After a week without anything after that spider, it's pretty sodding good, in fact. You roast it on a spit and it's just like a nug. Just gotta find the right bits. Lots are all sinew. You find the good bits and it's good. Works for any corpses too, it's all meat. Darkspawn, deepstalker, nug, spider, dwarf... No fresh ones of those, though. Less darkspawn coming around. Time for a drink.

You wouldn't believe who I found floating in the river! Bhelen gone for a swim. I went and caught the little twit. We talked about it, you know. _It_. Kinslayer. What a term. Bhelen says council went and made me king after all. Paragon king. I got three sons you know. Those noble hunters gotta be happy. Tried feeding Bhelen but he wouldn't eat. Idiot. Doesn't know darkspawn isn't bad. I guess he doesn't feel good, wouldn't eat a mushroom either. Told him to go home. He said he wants to stay. I think he's crazy.

9:30; Nubulis

We talked again today, he'd been quiet so long I thought he might have died. But he finally talked to me. Said that he didn't want to be king at all, wanted me to be king, wanted me go to go back to Orzammar and take the throne so he wouldn't have to. Bah, none of that. Have a thaig now. Whole thing, all to myself. Well, and Bhelen. Could use a wench. It'd be perfect.

9:30

I came up with new plan. Gonna go to darkspawn, be king there. Taking Bhelen with me. He'll like it there. He doesn't hear it yet. I made him eat though. Made him eat so he can see. So he can hear. Braided his beard so it would be nice for trip. Some of hair fell out. Told him not be so worried, he has nice beard. No more writing, I go now.

* * *

"Why the devil was that dwarf carrying a half-rotted corpse?"

"Amor, I think that corpse was far beyond _half_-rotted." Zevran pointed out, putting his bow away.

"By the_ Maker_, the smell of those two." Alistair pinched his nose. "Let's move on."

Zevran went to retrieve his arrow from the dwarf's heart. Out of habit, he patted the body down for signs of anything interesting, or of value. Tucked in the dwarf's belt he found a tattered journal, and held it up for the Warden to see.

"There's a journal on the body, though," the Warden motioned to it as Zevran held it up.

"I venture 'tis not likely you will find meaningful literature in the possession of a driveling fool. I, for instance, do not suggest reading Alistair's journal."

"You _read_ my _journal_?"

Morrigan dismissively waved her hand."Ultimately, 'tis not likely you will find such literature upon that corpse, either."

"That's _private_! You can't read someone's journal! What if I were to read _your_ journal?"

The bickering of Alistair and Morrigan was met with a sigh from the Warden. Zevran chuckled, tossing the tattered journal aside. The Warden merely shook his head as he placed his arm around the elf's shoulders and led him on ahead, away from the disturbing argument over privacy.

* * *

Alpha by Sresla of the Dragon Age Community at BioWare Social Network.

Beta by TanithAerys of the Dragon Age Community at BioWare Social Network.


End file.
